With a Song
by Wrenne
Summary: Imagine the awesome Gilbert awestruck and drooling over Roderich. And then read this.


Lazuline

"Hi. I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Gilbert didn't raise his hand for a hand shake, nor did he give any identification card. He just stood there, his voice scarce, his lips stretched, his eyes not bothering to even blink, he's simply there…awestruck. All he did was to look eagerly at the man in front of him, tried to tell something more but found out that cat got his tongue, and even if there's no cat around, and even if the cat didn't, his mind is now completely blank. Although he's starting a battle inside his brain, his eyes moved their way and scanned the Austrian from head to toe. Taking notice of his firm stand, his well-rimmed tie, his tight semi-formal tux and his deep onyx eyes behind those spectacles, Gilbert didn't managed to think of anything else anymore.

This is the moment he had been waiting for, for almost ten years of adoration and longing, it's a miracle that these part time jobs landed him here, to this glorious event of a lifetime. Gilbert can't believe it, of course he's awesome enough to shake the thought away, but it keeps on coming back to him. It feels so surreal to be in this very moment, feeding his eyes with the view of this elegant musician, it's so different from his performances on screen, this is like, ten millions more awesome than he actually is. _Uhm, no,_ he's still way too awesome. Nonetheless, this man managed to take his breath away yet again, since he had seen him performing on that huge stage nine years back, with his black violin perfectly matching his eyes, his little hands proficiently playing.

"I'm – "

"Roderich Edelstein!" Gilbert almost shouted, embarrassed that his index finger shot up with his answer. "Uh, sorry." His hand found its way behind his neck, lightly scratching it, and finally, his eyes managed to travel away from the man in front of him.

Gilbert expected an awful expression for a brief moment. But his crimson eyes bucked back again when Roderich softly spoke, "Its okay." The other man gave him a small smile. "It's an honor that you know me."

Gilbert started feeling those weird things that Alfred once told him – the butterflies, the racing heart, and now, even the awesome German is getting the cold feet. He didn't know what to do; he never thought that this is what actually going to happen when he'll finally meet the Roderich Edelstein, he just clench his free hand and tug his shirt. "Uh," he stammered, and then lifted his camera. "Mind if we talk a little before the pictorial?"

It was all he could say of course, it was just… this whole situation is not what he imagined. He even wished that it's better for time to stop right at this very moment.

Roderich's eyes turn to look at his wrist watch after he adjusted his spectacles. "Yes, yes it'll be fine."

This time, Gilbert managed a smirk. _Of course._ Who can say no to the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt? And then he shouted 'Yes!' mentally.

Two years, for two years he had traveled the world to find this man. He even gave up their company, even his path to be a super model just to reserve himself for Roderich and devote his time looking for the Austrian. To add more, in those two years, his luck in finding the violin-player was at its worst, because when he's ready to meet him in North Pole, he'll just be informed that he's in South Pole, though Gilbert didn't really manage to step on neither of the poles. Well, speaking drastically, they are always worlds apart. Gilbert promised Francis, Antonio, and most of all, himself that he'll get this man with just a wave of the hand, but now, he can't do anything more than to stare at him, to watch him sip his tea. He had never been too flustered, nervous and happy all at the same time.

He had followed Roderich here; a coffee shop that is small but elegant, simple yet classy. No wonder this is where Roderich had taken him, it definitely defines the ebony-haired man well. Gilbert held his camera to hope for some support, although he himself couldn't believe it, he's trembling just being here, alone with Roderich. _I'm awesome yet I'm trembling. _Of course his argument with himself is not strong enough for him to believe. Is this the result of excitement? Anxiousness bottled up for two years? Or simply love? Of all things, he's sure about one thing, he really wanted this guy to be his. His and his alone.

"So, uhm, how's life?" Gilbert had confessed it before, he may be amazing, but you can't have it all – he's not good in starting conversations. First of, he doesn't want to waste this perfect ambiance he had created effortlessly, second, almost always that the people around him are the ones to start a conversation, and third, he doesn't want Roderich to be turned off by his brassy attitude, as a French called it.

"It's as usual. " The Austrian replied, eyeing him briefly. Gilbert couldn't fight the urge to notice his pale skin; maybe it's as smooth as a baby's. Admit that his long fingers are refined like they were made by someone expert in sculpture. But most of all, those lips, red as fresh cherries, deep as carmine, Gilbert wonders how they would feel on his –

"I heard you're a freelancer?" Roderich interrupted.

"Ah, yes." At least he managed to reply.

Being a freelancer sure is not that bad; he had come to his goal, and started the maze. Money is not a problem for him anyway, since his little brother is giving him sustenance. It's his brother's job anyway. Before their father died, he had told him he'll be travelling the world, and his father supported him, or at least that's how he understood his answer after he dotes on him. Anyway, what good is there if you're always buried behind files of papers? And that work would just hide his pretty face, a face that must be shown to the world. He must admit that his brother is also handsome, for being a Beilschmidt, of course, but not as handsome as he is and so, that said Ludwig can handle the company works.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Gilbert looked back at Roderich, it was such a shock to realize that having too many thoughts at a time made it look like he's spacing out. One thing that he's not supposed to be doing.

"Why are you contented in being a freelancer? Not to be disrespectful, but, don't you have any dream or anything?"

Gilbert took a spoonful of his ice cream. _Good thing he hadn't notice._ To be honest, _this is_ his very dream, and he's apparently looking at his very reason – excluding the obvious goal he had build a long time ago. "Except from the freedom it gives me," Gilbert cleared his throat. _Better tell him,_ "Since I was eleven, when I watched a performance of this musician, I promised myself I will make that musician my bride someday." Gilbert's eyes were turned far from Roderich, afraid that if he looks directly into them, he might blush – so hard. And even though all of the shades of any colors will match him perfectly, some crimson bathe cheeks will not be a very glorious fit. Still, he remembered that time when he declared his plan to Francis and Antonio, of course the both laughed at him, but it just made him wear the bell. "I travelled the world with the hope that one day, we'll meet." Then he grinned widely.

Roderich responded with a balmy smile. "Did, did you met this musician yet?"

_Just a few minutes ago. _"Yes." He smirked, hiding the thought to himself. "My friends will always tell me that it's impossible, and I will counter them with a plain answer. But now, I am really lost in how I'll show my feelings."

_Woah, hold on a second! Is this me?_ He couldn't believe it himself. Having tea, sensing happiness and serenity, and now, talking something about feelings and stuff…he's the word awesome in human form and yet he's saying things like a maiden in love. It was a bit too late when he realized it. "Sorry, I have said too much." He added.

"Don't be." Roderich broaden his smile at him. "I wish you luck, whoever this musician might be."

Gilbert felt an overwhelming warmth starting to glow inside him. With just a smile, now what would a laugh do? Make his heart stop? "By the way, you said awhile ago, 'the usual', what do you mean by that?"

"This last performance –"

"Last?"

"You didn't know?"

Gilbert shook his head. "I was too glad to watch you performing." Oh no, it slipped from his tongue suddenly. Gilbert slowly turned to look at Roderich, and was pleased when he saw him blushed a little.

"Uh." Roderich slowly placed his teacup down. "I'll be taking a more stable job as a vice president of a music company," Gilbert noticed that Roderich was avoiding his gaze. "It's not really what I wanted to live with, but at least it has something to do with music. Talking practically, that is."

Though Roderich's eyes are a far, Gilbert knows that he's sad, way beyond sadness is defined. This is not what this man in front of him wanted, and he can't do anything about it. It's plainly painful.

"Hey, at least you lived your dream." He tried to cheer the Austrian up. Gilbert beamed widely at Roderich, making the musician turn to his direction.

"But nothing feels best than continue to live in your own dream."

Gilbert played with the little spoon caught between his fingers. "Yeah."

Roderich removed his spectacles and wiped them using a cloth from somewhere Gilbert couldn't point out. "Let's start the pictorial?"

Gilbert scooped the last of his ice cream. "Okay."

"You know, you're not a bad company."

"Who said I am?"

Roderich chortled, "Me. Well, with that astounding white hair and piercing ruby eyes, I owe you an apology."

Gilbert slowly laid his back on the grass, looking at the setting sun. He never felt more contented in this lifetime than now – having almost a day with this Austrian. It's so good to realize that he trusted him soon enough to tell him stories – about an adopted sister who's tougher than him, about his weird hobby of picking on different shades of the clouds, about having this huge collection of classic notes at home he had promised to show him sometime, and play just for him, and many more. Maybe it's also a good thing that Roderich just performed his last act, because of this, they had time to stroll, to talk, to have fun.

"Apology accepted." Gilbert said jokingly.

Roderich smiled again. Gilbert doesn't know how to explain the happiness that overflows his heart now, to not be able to count the countless times Roderich smiled, smiled genuinely, smiled because of him, and smiled just for him. This is the greatest feeling he had ever felt.

"Before we part." Roderich refused to look at Gilbert. "I'm going to tell you one thing." He sighed. "Thank you for being my friend."

Gilbert froze. Friend. Was that a good sign or what?

"I was kidnapped; as a result, my parents didn't let me play with the kids in the neighborhood because of security reasons." He looks at his hands with an expression that paints pain.

"I'm sorry." Gilbert whispered.

"When I was a teenager, the piano and my violin are the only ones who accompany me. So when you showed up, I felt happy. " Roderich laughed. "Thank you for letting me to experience this kind of happiness."

Gilbert choked. He can't think of the things that will happen next. "Hey, uh, have you ever been kissed?"

Roderich shifted and looked at the albino. "What did you said?"

"A kiss. Have you ever been kissed before?"

"Uhm…"

"Do you know what it feels like?"

"Uh, I can't really –"

"Do you want to know how it feels like?"

On the reel of the moment, something inside Gilbert urged him to push himself up, to look at Roderich, to lean in. He felt his hands reaching for this man that had been the object of his fantasies.

"It feels like this."

His eyes slowly closed. And after a moment, he realized he did something that he shouldn't have.

Something that might end all of this.

06:36 pm

January 12, 2013


End file.
